


sun goes down

by capraluxe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capraluxe/pseuds/capraluxe
Summary: collection of poems i've written





	1. every hour is golden

sometimes i forget how much we move

we live in a cabin on the beach  
and it's been three months since the sun last  
dipped below the horizon

we sit in the golden sand and i feed you mango cubes  
while we talk about the dreams we want to have  
when the night comes again

i think about how it'll be winter in nine months  
and we'll be all the way on the other side of the sun  
so far away from our stories  
and yet here we are  
living them  
living in them


	2. for when you get here tomorrow

you were waiting on a camera lens  
and a coin slot on my throat  
chimed a second prize, but it was  
just bloody knuckles on the other end  
and a hand in waning crescent  
dim on your shoulder

should clean up before you get here  
stop thinking so much but  
i've never changed, always  
rolling candles off my windowsill  
scratching lint with a mattress frame wire  
still writing about nothing


	3. taken // received

you left your sunglasses here again  
i think i might keep them. i wonder  
if i'll ever see you again

you're going much farther than i can follow  
but i've been there before  
that little college town by a lake  
wider than it is long

i left a piece of me there  
i hope you'll find it  
big enough for you to see  
small enough that no one else will

the gridiron pattern between my eyebrows  
branded by your lips  
it's sun-faded now  
but you'll know it when you see it

i know


	4. to autumn moths

kneel under my lampshade  
you bleeding little things  
the sun has set with much regret  
and robbed you of your wings

do you sense the storms oncoming?  
dancing leaves on high  
it's good you moved off quickly  
and that i happened by

with longer nights you're set to wait  
for your respite, much longer  
but shorter days and blistering rays  
will only make you stronger


	5. but it will be fine in the morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is about a more serious topic, so tread carefully please

right now  
you are in the back of the closet  
in the upstairs hallway  
hiding from a father who would never call you  
his  
youve always been small  
disappointing  
never any good at baseball  
and you always beat him at hide and seek

in ten minutes  
he will be home  
coming through that door  
tired hungry mad  
you like to get a head start  
maybe if youre quiet enough  
hell think you worked late

in three hours  
your mother will cook dinner  
a meal for three  
but you will have  
climbed out your bedroom window  
and dad will take your share  
it wont be an issue because  
behind your bookshelf there was  
plenty enough to eat

tonight  
your father will not ask for you  
you mother will go to bed  
grateful  
and you will be halfway across the city  
on a train before an eyelash bats

tomorrow  
you will be eighteen years old.


	6. rolling morning

broken nails always  
scratching their eyes  
lying awake under  
stars we were growing

trees and the birds  
singing in them  
signaling boats to their harbors  
and calling us back  
to the roots that we pulled

brewed in a slurry with  
winds that flew distant  
and whistled to prairies  
where hands dug for bones

telling them stories  
of places above  
in the sky with the sun  
and all of her children  
that fall with the rolling morning

dragging us up by our ankles  
from sleep that was  
harrowing, pricking our  
fingers and nails till they're broken


	7. untitled

love  
began as a sprout  
that fell from a tree  
and blew away on the wind

it bloomed in the air and  
left its seeds strewn in the breeze  
now everyone breathes in its light  
and in turn they are lighter


	8. spring and back again

in a thousand years these rocks will have  
a home and a name and a heart  
but for now they are just pavement for weary things  
rusted tracks and  
worn boots and sneakers

to think that crumbling moss would make me  
want to tell these stories  
or wonder if there's anyone else that makes you  
talk like this  
and the light that catches your eye through the trees across the way  
makes me unafraid of the answer


End file.
